


5 Times Rhodey Sees Tony In Peter +1 Time Tony sees himself.

by Jinx_Frost



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxious Tony Stark, Caffeine Addiction, Crying, Drunk Peter Parker, Drunk Steve Rogers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Injured Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Minor Injuries, Night Terrors, Parent James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Peter Parker, Read by the Author, Self-Medication, Sleep Deprivation, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Drinking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx_Frost/pseuds/Jinx_Frost
Summary: 5 Times Rhodey Sees Tony In Peter +1 Time Tony sees himself.TW: Underage drinking(Please read tags)
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 176





	5 Times Rhodey Sees Tony In Peter +1 Time Tony sees himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by Breval on Tumblr
> 
> Prompt: Prompted on Tumblr by, Breval: Prompt: I think you said you were looking for prompts? If not feel free to ignore this. But what about a fic with Rhodey getting a lot of déjà vu looking at Peter. Basically Rhodey, going "oh no, there are two of them" over and over in his head when he sees Peter and Tony together. Love your blog btw <3

1\. Broken Glass

Rhodey could hear the laughter all the way from his room, undoubtedly from his favorite father son duo.

“Mr. Stark, that's cheating!” Peter hollars.

“Oh, come on, that was a smart move, you’re just a sore loser!” Tony defends himself, laughing.

“You have to stay on the track!” He whines, clearly annoyed.

“If I wasn’t allowed to drive through the grass then why don’t I see any road signs or guardrails?”

Rhodey smiles to himself, setting down the book he was reading, and makes his way to the living room. Once he reaches his destination, he can’t help but smile at what he sees. Peter and Tony are side by side on the couch, empty pizza boxes and soda cans littered haphazardly across the floor in front of them. Peter was in an MIT hoodie, that he assumed was an old one of Tony’s based on how it hung off of him, and Tony in his Black Sabbath T-shirt. Mario Kart was playing on the flatscreen, controllers in their hands. Tony’s character was in fact driving through the grass, taking shortcuts past other characters, a little ‘3rd place’ floating in the bottom left corner.

Peter, on the other hand, had somehow gotten turned around and was driving in the wrong direction, his placement flashing 12th. He was driving through the other players, who had all lapped him by now, seeking out Tony to hit him with a red turtle shell.

“Oh, come on! Now you’re just being petty!” Tony throws his hands up in mock anger, hiding his laugh.

“If I can’t win neither can you!” Peter sticks his tongue out at Tony and they both laugh.

Tony tosses his controller down to mess up Peter’s hair, ruffling it with his fingers. Peter bats the offending hand away and huffs in frustration, while his mentor smiles in amusement. Rhodey lets out a huff of laughter, entertained. This catches their attention, both whipping around to face him.

“Hi, Mr. Rhodes.” Peter chirped, followed by Tony’s;

“Hey Rhodey.”

When they’re together like this, the resemblance is clear as day and it makes his heart swell with pride for his friend. Peter sitting beside him, beaming, with his MIT hoodie on. He reminded him of a younger Tony so much that it made his heart ache. Everytime Peter would get into one of his nerdy rambles or wear Tony’s clothes he was hit with a blast from the past. Nearly everything Peter did mirrored him. It was like having two of Tony around and it seemed that the best of him came out in the presence of this kid.

“Hey guys.” He replies fondly.

“You wanna play with us? Mr. Stark is a cheater though, just warning you now.” Peter says, throwing a mock glare Tony’s way.

“Oh, kiss my ass pretty boy.”

Rhodey laughs before grabbing a controller and taking residence beside the two. The three play for about an hour longer before Tony falls asleep on the couch, leaving just Rhodey and Peter to determine the winner. After a couple more rounds, Rhodey stands up and stretches, leaving his controller on the coffee table.

“I’m gonna go grab some water, I’ll be right back,” He calls over his shoulder, making his way to the kitchen.

“Alright, I’m gonna start cleaning up,” Peter says, nodding.

The older man makes his way to the kitchen, opening cabinets in search of a glass. He spots one left on the top shelf. He lifts himself onto his tip-toes, fingertips barely touching the glass. His legs were stiff from sitting down for so long and the braces weren’t helping. He had just gotten hold of the glass when he lost his balance and stumbled backward. The glass tumbled out and hit the counter, sending pieces of glass everywhere with a loud crash. Rhodey curses under his breath, taking a moment to gather himself before trying to sweep the shards into his hand. Hurried footsteps come from the living room before Peter appears around the corner.

“Mr. Rhodes? Are you-? Oh, don’t try to clean that up with your bare-” Peter didn’t get to finish his warning before the man jerked his hand away with a hiss, as if he had been burned, bright red dots of blood collecting in his palm. Peter gently pulls the assaulted hand closer, inspecting the damage.

“Peter, it’s fine. I just need a band-aid and I’ll be fine,” He insists.

“You’ve got glass stuck in it,” Peter states, “Just let me get it out for you.”

Rhodey sighs, but agrees nonetheless, watching as the kid digs through the drawers for a pair of tweezers. Once he finally retrieves them, he averts his attention back to the bloodied glass embedded in the Colonel’s hand. Rhodey was fully capable of taking care of himself, he knew that, but the kid seemed determined to help and something in the man couldn’t bring himself to distinguish that. Rhodey watched Peter carefully pull the tiny bits of glass from his hand, brows knitted together in concentration and tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t help but notice the concern on the kids face, mixed with something like guilt. He couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind.

Just like Tony.

~~~~~  
2\. All-nighters

“Friday, run this for me?”

A moment of silence, then;

“Trial unsuccessful.”

Peter groans and throws his pencil onto the desk, running his hand through his hair out of frustration. Rhodey watches him lean back in his desk chair, eyes screwed shut. He takes a moment, massaging circles into his temples with his palms, before letting out a heavy sigh and leaning forward to examine his work in front of him. Holograms of his suit surround him as well as a series of web combinations. Rhodey doesn’t know exactly what the kid is working on but it’s clearly stressing him out. Tony had gone on a business trip for a few days and Rhodey had promised to keep the kid company. Although, he wished his friend was here to help Peter, seeing as he didn’t know anything about this stuff. Peter starts to erase things then, very carefully, starts filling it back in. He stands and zooms in on the web shooters, grabbing little holographic pieces and fitting them into it.

“Friday, try again?” Peter asks, hopeful.

“Trial unsuccessful.”

“Oh, mother-” Peter starts but stops to steal a sideways glance at him, seeming to have forgotten the older man was there, to see Rhodey’s eyes wide and looking at him expectantly.

“Come on kid, it’s almost midnight, you should get some sleep and try it again tomorrow.” Rhodey suggests, standing up with a yawn.

“You’re right,” Peter agrees, “But, can I please try just one more time?”

“Just one. I mean it Parker.” Rhodey sighs, turning for the door.

“I’m right behind you!” Peter promises as Rhodey climbs the stairs for his room.

He wasn’t.

Rhodey wakes to see Peter’s bed empty, covers untouched. He makes his way back down to the lab and, sure enough, there stands Peter staring at holograms in front of him. It was very obvious the kid hadn't gone to bed yet. He was wearing the same MIT hoodie he had on the day before, hair disheveled, large bags under his eyes, and coffee cups littered his desk. He pulls the door open not expecting to be greeted by ACDC blaring through the speakers, having temporarily forgotten about the soundproof walls. He couldn’t help but smile. The music, the late nights, the holograms, it all gave him young-Tony flashbacks. Rhodey cleared his throat, leaning in the doorway. Peter whipped around, clearly having not even noticed he was there in the first place, a guilty look on his face.

“Did you drink all of those?” Rhodey gestures to the empty cups everywhere.

“Um, yeah?” Peter winces.

Rhodey sighs, for the millionth time, and walks over to Peter to place his hands on his shoulders. Rhodey’s firm grip guides him out of the lab and up the stairs, leading yet another little genius back to a healthy routine. Had this been Tony, he probably would have protested and whined the whole way back, so he’s thankful the kid didn’t put up too much of a fight. Peter is pushed into his room and onto the bed where he reluctantly crawls under the covers and leans back onto his pillow with a heavy sigh.

“Thanks Mr. Rhodes,” Peter says sheepishly.

He hums in response, taking one last glance at Peter, who was already starting to drift off. He closes the door behind him with a;

“Goodnight little Stark.”

~~~~~  
3\. Nightmares

A scream.

An absolutely raw, throat ripping, terrified scream. 

And it came from Peter’s room. 

Rhodey shot straight up in his bed, throwing his covers off and stumbling into the hallway. He barreled down the hall towards the kid’s room as fast as his braced legs would let him. Sliding into the doorway, he flicks the lights on, heart sinking at what he sees. Peter is trembling in his bed, eye’s still closed, cold sweat running down his forehead, whimpering, and fresh tears running down his face. He starts to thrash around more violently as he lets out another ear piercing scream.

“M-Mr. Stark!” He calls out in a hoarse, choked voice and Rhodey’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

“Peter! Peter wake up!” The man shakes his shoulders, worried as hell.

Peter continues to whimper and shake in his sleep. Rhodey is scared, unable to keep the memories of Tony screaming out like this flooding back to him. He shakes him harder now, panic welling inside him, and yells Peter’s name over his sobs. Relief washes over him when those dark brown eyes reveal themselves, tears still falling. Peter all but crawls into his lap, burying his face into Rhodey’s chest, letting him hold his shaking form while he sobbed relentlessly. The Colonel had no idea how to take care of this kid, but he remembered what helped Tony, so he tried the only thing he knew. He wrapped his arms around the kid in a tight embrace, rocking him gently, while carding one of his hands through his brown curls.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, shhh, It’s alright, I’m right here,” He whispered into his ear, waiting for his sobs to subside.

Only when his bawling reduced to whimpers, and the shaking turned into shivers, did he try to ask;

“Are you alright?” His voice was full of parental worry.

The kid talked a lot, sometimes too much, he was a little too loud, had a lot of chaotic energy, and sometimes even got a little annoying. None of this, however, ever made him not enjoy Peter’s company, or even turn away a chance to spend time with him. He would be lying if he said this chaotic little genius hasn't grown on him or that he didn’t care about him so much. Something about seeing him go through the same trauma his best friend did made his heart ache, missing his happy chatter.

“I- I think so,” Peter pulled away from him, suddenly insecure about realizing he was clutching onto the older man's shirt. “God, I feel like such a baby.”

“Hey, this doesn’t make you a baby, alright? Nightmare’s have gotten to all of us, including Iron Man himself.” He reassures.

“Mr. Stark? Really?” Peter sniffs, sad brown eyes meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, real bad too. Screamed so loud he would wake the whole tower. No shame in that, I had to do the same thing to help him.” He confirmed.

Peter didn’t say anything, his sniffles the only sound in the room now.

“Does he know?”

“Mr. Stark? No, I mean, he knew about them a while back. He helped me through them sometimes, which makes a lot of sense now, considering he did the exact same thing you did. He doesn’t know they’re getting bad again though.” Peter wipes his nose on his sleeve and lets out a heavy sigh.

“You should probably let him know, kid.” He suggests, softly.

“Yeah,” Peter whispers, barely audible.

Rhodey study’s his face. He looks so damn sad.

“I know Tony gets busy sometimes Pete, but he’s never too busy for you. You know that, right? And don’t think I haven’t heard you make comments to your friends about not wanting to be seen as a child, or a burden, because I can tell you right now he doesn’t see you like that.”

New tears well in his eyes and Rhodey guesses he had been right on point. Peter leans into his shoulder, sighing shakily.

“Thanks, Mr. Rhodes.”

“Call me Rhodey, kid.”

Peter nods and they settle into another moment of silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Peter doesn’t say anything, shaking his head insead.

“Okay, just know that you can alright?”

He nods, yawning. They stay like that for a while, Rhodey rubbing soothing circles into his back, while Peter nods off on his shoulder. Eventually, Peter fell asleep, and if Rhodey just so happens to lay back and spend the rest of the night with him sleeping on his chest, well, then that was nobody’s business but his own.

~~~~~  
4\. Self medicating

Rhodey noticed almost immediately. 

Pale skin, labored breathing, eye bags, disheveled hair, wincing when he moved, occasional soft groans, slow movement, fatigue, inattention.

He was making a mental checklist. Peter hid it well, he’d give him that. His breathing was controlled and the winces were barely noticeable. He was too good, and that didn’t sit right with him. The whole team was in the conference room, attention on Steve who was rambling on about the previous mission. They were all listening, no one seeming to notice the kid’s condition beside him. Rhodey decided not to say anything right now, seeing as it would probably be more appropriate to confront him alone.

He glanced at Tony, wondering if he noticed the same things he did. The billionaire was focused on Steve, chewing his lip and bouncing his knee, most likely too anxious to notice. The meeting is starting to wrap itself up when he notices Peter nodding off, having to catch his head a few times, trying way too hard to stay awake.

“You still with us, kid?” Steve pauses to ask.

“Yeah, yeah, m’just tired. Sorry.” The question seemed to catch him off guard.

Steve just nods and continues to wrap up the meeting. Eventually, the team gets up one by one and walk out, including Tony, throwing a;

“See you in the workshop in 10 Parker,” over his shoulder on the way out.

“O-okay.” He stutters, slouching in his chair now and letting out a sigh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rhodey speaks up, now that it’s just the two of them.

Peter jumps, the winces at the sudden movement, clearly having forgotten the man was even there.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Cut the bullshit Parker, tell me what’s going on.” He pushes.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Last chance, or I’ll find out myself.” He warns.

Peter doesn’t say anything, he just stares back at the Colonel like he’s deciding whether or not to lie. Rhodey grows impatient, annoyed that the kid is so clearly lying to him. He grabs Peter by the arm, pulling him up out of his chair and pushing him back onto the table. Peter lets out a sharp hiss and clutches the right side of his abdomen. Upon seeing this, Rhodey lifts the kid’s shirt to reveal a nasty laceration, an impressive three inches long. There's a nasty purple bruise surrounding the poorly executed stitches, most likely from being too tight, that fades into an angry red.

“When did this happen?”

“D-don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tears are pooling in his eyes now.

“Peter. When. Did. This. Happen?”

“L-last night on patrol, I-I thought if I stitched it that it would be f-fine but it really h-hurts.” The tears flow freely now and he hiccups in between sobs.

“Yeah, I bet, the stitches are too tight and it looks like it might be getting infected.” He deadpans.

“I-I’m sorry”

“Look, kid, you don’t have to be sorry for getting hurt, that comes with the job. What I don’t want is you hiding things like this and doing some serious damage to yourself. Why didn’t you at least tell Tony, is everything okay between you guys?”

“Of course! I-it’s just…” Peter looks away, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“It’s just what?” He prompts, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I don’t want Mr. Stark to think I can’t handle it, or that I need a babysitter.” Peter sniffs.

“Kid, he knows you can handle it, he just wants what I want and that’s to make sure you’re safe. We need to look out for each other and we can’t do that if you’re hiding injuries like this.” Rhodey was afraid he was lecturing the kid too much, but his health was important and he needed to get his point across.

Peter nods, sniffing again, his sobs having subsided by now.

“Come on, we need to get Dr. Cho to take a look at that, get you some proper help.” He pulls Peter’s shirt back down and helps him off the table.

He lets the older man guide him down to the medbay, greeted by a less than thrilled Dr. Cho, familiar with his bad habit. She carefully cuts out Peter’s makeshift stitches and replaces them with her own before medicating and wrapping it. The pair are making their way down to the workshop when he decides to ask;

“How did you know I was hiding something?”

Rhodey sighs.

“I grew up with Tony, he pulled shit like that all the time. I know a self medicator when I see one.”

~~~~~  
5\. Drinking

Rhodey was well aware of Peter’s super metabolism, knowing full well that alcohol didn’t touch him, so seeing him drink wasn’t really alarming. Tony usually allowed it during the celebratory parties, like this one, at the compound. What he didn’t count on, however, was Thor not getting the memo on the whole kids-don’t-drink thing and offering the young hero his Asgardian drink. He had noticed that the kid had stopped talking, which almost never happens, and that he hadn't seen him in a while. He pushes his way through the crowd, running into Natasha and Bruce in the process.

“Where’s the kid?” Rhodey yells over the music and chattering of people.

“Haven’t seen him, sorry.” She shrugs, and Bruce shakes his head behind her.

He frowns and pushes past them, running into Tony moments later.

“Where’s Peter?” The billionaire asks.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I thought he was talking to Steve?”

They push through the crowd together now, moving towards Steve’s blonde hair and Thor’s booming laughter. They walk up to see Peter with his head down on crossed arms, Steve beside him, head propped up by his elbow. Thor, however, didn’t seem to care and was laughing with a group of Veterans while pouring them drinks out of a silver flask, deep laughter bouncing off the walls.

“Men of Iron!” He greets, voice rattling Rhodeys skull, “You mortal men do not hold your liquor well!”

“Thor, what are you talking about? Steve can’t get drunk.” The Colonel states.

“Neither can Peter,” Tony adds, walking over to the kid to clasp a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

Peter lets out a low groan the same time Steve hiccups and his head falls onto the bar with a ‘thunk.’ 

“They really are drunk,” The two exchange a confused look, “Thor what the hell did you give them?”

“It’s an Asgardian specialty, aged for thousands of years. Here, have some,” Thor thrusts the flask into Rhodey’s face and the smell alone is enough to give him a headache.

“Um, I’m good.” He pushes Thor’s hand away from his face.

Tony lifts Peter’s hand, then let's go, frowning when the kid makes no move to respond whatsoever.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me. His Aunt’s gonna have my head.” The billionaire mutters, pulling the kid out of his chair and slinging his arm around his shoulders.

Peter doesn’t attempt to stand in the slightest and Tony nearly drops him before reaching under his knees to carry him bridal style. Steve was drunk as well but slightly better off seeing as he could at least walk. Tony leads the way, carrying Peter, Rhodey following suit, supporting Steve. The noise dies out as they walk down the corridor towards the team’s rooms. Tony sighs before thinking out loud;

“Can’t wait to find out what super-drunks are like.”

“I really hope it doesn’t mean super hangovers.”

Tony scoffs at that, pausing as they’ve reached Steve’s room.

“You got him?” Tony raises a questioning brow at his friend, waiting for him to get in the door.

“Yeah, yeah I think so,” He shifts the Captain's weight on his shoulder, eliciting a groan from the supersoldier.

Rhodey watches his best friend carry the drunk teen away, head resting on his mentors head. Even though the whole thing was purely innocent, he was experiencing some odd nostalgia.

~~~~~  
+1. Drinking (Continued)

Tony carried Peter towards his room, pretending not to notice that he was drooling on his neck. He looked down at the kid, half conscious in his arms.

This must have been how Rhodey felt when he rescued Tony, drunk, from parties at college.

Using his foot to push open the door, he makes his way inside Peter’s room to gently set him on the bed, letting him lean back against the comforter.

“Misser Sarrrrrk,” Peter groans out, eyes rolling into his head as he fights for consciousness.

“Oh, so now you wanna respond?” Tony jokes, trying to make light of the situation.

Peter lets out another low groan, rolling toward the older man, who had his arms outstretched to catch him in case he rolled off the bed. The kid seems to sober up a little and his skin flushes white.

“I-I ‘ink I’m ‘onna be sick”

Tony lunges for the trash can just in time, pushing it in front of him just as he’s brought to his knees with a wet gag. He rubs the kid’s back as he heaves into the trash can, spitting up bile. Peter’s back arches as his stomach twists, forcing out the last bit of acid that hits the can with a wet splash.

“Do you think you’ve got it all out, Underoos?” Tony speaks with a parental concern, usually reserved only for Peter.

“I-I think so,” He sniffs, tears running down his face.

The older man pulls the trash can away from Peter, who collapses on the cold floor, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet Pete. We need to clean you up.”

He lifts the boy to his feet and guides him to the bathroom, setting him on the closed toilet seat lid. Grabbing a toothbrush, he wets it and applies toothpaste before bringing it to his lips. Tony carefully brushes all the vomit away from the younger man’s mouth, then instructs him to spit into the sink. Peter does so, being guided back to bed afterward. A bottle of water is lifted to his lips and he takes a few sips before pushing it away from him. His mentor tells him to;

“Stay put,” As he digs through the closet for clean clothes.

He’s left alone momentarily, and the loss of another form has Peter whimpering for him to come back. The bed dips again and his dress shirt is being tugged off of him. His pant legs are given a tug before they are removed as well. If he was a little more aware, Tony assumed he would probably be embarrassed about being seen in just his boxers. He slides a soft pair of shorts up the kids legs, followed by a light t-shirt over his head, afraid of overheating him. Content with the younger man’s condition, he takes a moment to look over him before cleaning up, not forgetting to leave some aspirin with the water bottle on his nightstand. He heads for the door, taking one last look at the boy passed out in bed, suddenly needing to repress some wild flashback. He smiles fondly and closes the door behind him.

“Goodnight Underoos.”

**Author's Note:**

> Visit or send me requests for more Irondad content on Tumblr.
> 
> peter-parker-pictures
> 
> Requests are appreciated!
> 
> Love you all. <3


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